A way out of here
by Gizmoislove96
Summary: Pip is a miserable mental patient who claims to have met the devil. Even he was beginning to question his sanity, until one night Damien comes back to ask a favor. Pip doesn't know if he's up to the job, but he would much rather try than spend the rest of his life with no contact with anyone but his psychiatrist. Slash.


A/N: Hello everyone who may read this! This is a dip fanfiction. It is SLASH. If you don't like that then please leave now. That being said, this is my first time writing dip. I am kind of nervous, but very excited. This first chapter is a prologue, so it is short. Following chapters will be longer though!

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or these characters. This is purely for the amusement of myself and others.

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It was the darkest hour of night when he came to me. It was no surprise really. I had expected him sooner than he had actually arrived, but I can't say I blame him for the delay. Not under his circumstances. The truth of the matter was simple: he needed me. The idea, alone, of Damien needing somebody is mind boggling in and of itself, but that is the God honest truth. What's even more mind boggling is what he needed me for. He would say now that anyone would have sufficed, but we both know that's not true. He needed somebody patient, somebody tolerant, and more importantly, somebody who wasn't scared shitless of him. And to this day, I have never met anyone who isn't terrified of his endless depth. A person would have to be insane to do what I did; maybe they wouldn't do it even then.

The summer was drawing to an achingly slow end, and, personally I couldn't wait for the grace of crisp autumn days and chilled nights. In fact, I was enjoying a walk around Starks Pond, enthusiastic about the sweet relief, when he crept from the surrounding woods. I felt him before I saw him. His presence brought forth a ring of darkness, a disturbance to the tranquility of nature, and the weight bound to his soul, his existence, whichever you prefer, was stifling. The once pleasant breeze stilled, the wild life froze. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse compensated for the lack of oxygen, or perhaps it was just his being that had it racing. I was standing utterly firm, an unmoving chunk of matter. He, on the other hand, must have been feeling something entirely different, because in a few fluid steps he was mere inches from me; true and daunting, his steely gaze locked on mine.

"Hey Pip," he said. "Long time no see."

"Damien." I was terse.

"Aw. Why the long face? You're so much prettier when you smile," Damien purred.

"I'm sorry if my face does not appease you, _Damien_, but I have matters to attend to. And to be frank, I don't think your assistance will be required."

"Hmm… it didn't look like you were doing much," he mused.

"Well, I was. And I really do_ not_ appreciate your sarcasm at the moment, so if you would please let me pass." I had remembered how to use my legs and was making to pass him, but before I could take three steps he threw his hand out and grabbed my arm. When I turned my incredulous stare on him, I noticed he had remained passive. That's one thing I always admired about him, his face was, and still is, so stone like. It was as if when his resolve was set, so were his features. Like he felt his emotions so thoroughly, locked eternally in the current moment, he couldn't possibly understand a second feeling. His expressions were perpetual; perpetual anger, perpetual boredom, perpetual angst. At that moment he wore a mask of perpetual amusement. And that is what triggered it. That is what started it all. It was his smug demeanor that led me to do the most immature and imbecilic thing I have ever dared to consider.

I punched him… I punched the prince of evil squarely on the chin.

The change was instant. I was stunned at the time that he could go so quickly from what seemed like perpetual amusement to unrestricted loathe. Of course now I know he had never used more discipline in his life, and will probably never control himself like that again. At the time though, his eyes were the most frightening thing I had ever seen. They had not changed from steely gray to a raging fire, no, no, it was much worse. They turned charcoal black. Like his entire eye was one large pupil, an endless pit of nothing. They held the key to oblivion, where nothing but your own worst fears resided, and that's what scared me more than anything. I looked into his black eyes and saw myself. I saw myself in the eyes of another. I was sitting on the elementary school playground, staring longingly at the other children. I wanted so badly to be accepted, but I was nothing more than a fleck of dust floating around aimlessly, searching for a place to belong, yet never to be taken pity on.

He gripped my arm tighter. His hand was starting to hurt, starting to burn. The smell of charred clothing and skin filled my nostrils, and that's when his eye's danced with flames. I was sure what he was showing me then was his home, but it was strange because I was still in his eyes sitting on the snowy playground, yet now I was encompassed by mass fire. Tears blurred my vision, my head weighed a million pounds, I was sure this was my ultimate demise. My lids drooped and just before I was knocked unconscious, Damien's chuckle bounced off the walls of my head.

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A/N: So that is the prologue. Sorry for any mistakes that I made. I would love to know what people think!


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